Serendipity

I always struggle when someone in the family asks me, "What do you want for Christmas?" or "What do you want for your birthday?" The few moments in life at which I really think, "Gosh, I'd really like to have one of those," pass by and are forgotten swiftly. I don't have a mental list of things that I want, and I don't really spend much time coming up with things to want (except maybe more time, which ironically usually means owning less stuff). When someone asks, I generally stammer, pause, and then make something up that will suit the occasion.

I was chatting with my mom in December when she said, "You and Sara need to tell me what you want for Christmas." Pause. Stammer. "Well, I--OK, I'll get back to you." The conversation went on, in which I told her that three days earlier our washing machine finally bit the dust. (It came with the house, and I suspect it entered the house upon construction, making it at least nineteen years old. The instruction manual is printed with brown ink on beige paper, and the picture of a telephone in it has a rotary dial.)

"How about if I make my Christmas and birthday gifts to you guys a new washer?"

I was as relieved about not having to come up with gift ideas as I was thrilled that she offered to solve our laundry woes. "Sure! Sara's got the one she wants already picked out. We were going to get it this weekend."

So a story that began with a load of laundry sitting in its own filthy water, undrained, gained a felicitous ending. For the sake of history, here's the old goat that finally gave up the ghost (with exploring toddler blurring by):

And here's the new, sleek, high efficiency washer, on whose buttons you could play a piece from Tchaikovsky if you studied hard enough:

There is no central agitator, so we can fit the whole duvee in there (makes Sara very happy). And it has an extra rinse cycle, so diapers are a whole lot easier (makes everyone very happy).

Thanks, Mom. You rock!

~emrys